Ariana And The Elderly Vicars: Hot Girl Gets Biblical With Randy Old Revs!

ARIANA AND THE ELDERLY VICARS

Hot Girl Gets Biblical With Randy Revs

When local newspaper reporter Ariana Fenimore has to confront two elderly vicars with a very dodgy video that has come to light, she feels both nervous and strangely thrilled by the prospect. The 23-year-old beauty thinks she has the old men under control. But it soon transpires that the aging clerics are skilled in the ways of temptation... this story is approximately 6,500 words, and if you enjoy older men, younger women themed-erotica, you may like Ariana And The Elderly Vicars.

WARNING

This is erotica, and therefore is suitable only for adults. It features descriptions of a sexual encounter between two older males and one female, aged 23. All the characters are aged 18+

EXTRACT

She continued: “Some information has come to hand.”
“Whose hand, may I ask?” said Mr Jacks, leering. He showed his yellow teeth and again licked his lips, but this time quite lasciviously.
“Our… my hands.”
“I see.” He glanced around his humble abode, pondering. It wasn’t the actual vicarage: it was an annexe. Jacks and Ruffnell were two former vicars of the parish. They were both retired, obviously, and since they were single – Ruffnell had never married and Jacks had been widowed 10 years previously – the Church authorities allowed them to live on the grounds. It was a pleasant little dwelling. The lounge in which they were sat was small and comfy, and lit by two table lamps, one perched on a writing desk behind the Reverend’s couch, the other atop a row of bookshelves skirting the wall facing Ariana. A small gas fire glowed and the room brimmed with the odour of fresh flowers. On the wall hung a portrait of a very serious looking vicar with thick white hair and a big white beard. His eyes seemed fixed on Ariana. She shuddered and looked away.
“Reverend Jacks, before you force me to show you the evidence, would you confirm that you are visited by… by… prostitutes?”
He frowned. “Oh dear me, well of course not.”
“You are denying… ”
“Denying they are prostitutes, Miss Fenimore, not that young, attractive women visit me here.”
Ariana squirmed. She licked her lips. She tried to remember what her editor had told her: “Just be bold and present him with the information. If he asks you to leave, thank him and leg it. If he breaks down sobbing, tell him you can help him. Warn him that the National Press will soon be hounding him but as a local paper we can be far more sympathetic. But if he says anything dubious or dodgy – make your excuses and leave!”